


Flowers and Inks

by sofiawrites



Series: Tattooed Dog Star [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, F/M, Fluff, Tattoo Artist Sirius Black, i'm a sucker for greek mythology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 22:02:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18107354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sofiawrites/pseuds/sofiawrites
Summary: “I work at a flower shop and you’re a tattoo artist from across the street and you always come in here to practice drawing flowers and you’re really hot” AU by @aesocias.





	Flowers and Inks

When you thought of a tattoo artist, what came to mind was a somber, intimidating soul who had no fucks to give.

What you didn’t expect was someone who would stop by your store on opening day with a box of donuts and a teasing smile on his face. But that’s exactly what happened and, ever since then, it wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to share some donuts for breakfast.

A little over two months had passed since you opened up the flower shop and a few times a week, Sirius would come in and ask you to show him a flower to sketch.

“Hi, Sirius,” you sang, shutting your planner with a small smile. “Looking for a new flower to draw?”

“Morning, sunshine,” he replied, pausing when you rolled your eyes at his greeting. “And I am, actually.”

You hummed, making your way around the counter with two water bottles in hand. Tossing one at him, you uncapped your own, taking a small sip.

“Remind me again why you decided you wanted to practice sketching so many flowers.” You capped the water bottle, rocking back on your heels. “Don’t most people just ask for a rose tattoo, anyway?”

Sirius smirked. “Well, why do you carry so many flowers? Don’t most people end up with a bouquet of roses, anyway?”

You coughed out a laugh, folding your arms across your chest. “Because this is a  _flower_ shop. And I do my best to sway my customers from their rose-minded ways.”

“Fair enough.” He shared a smile with you, toying with the petals of the flower on the register. “But in all seriousness, I just don’t want to fuck–ah,  _mess_ , sorry–up anyone’s request.”

You peered at him intently, trying to hide your giggle at his slip up. When you first met Sirius, you noticed how he always seemed to censor himself around you. Once you finally confronted him about it, he replied by saying you were too angelic to curse around. You, apparently, had this aura of innocence to you that he was afraid to taint.

Of course, you responded by spouting every curse word known to man before Sirius had the chance to place a hand over your mouth, a shocked, yet amused, expression on his face.

Still, he refused to curse freely when he was with you.

“There are just so many flowers that symbolize different things, you know?” he asked, then furrowed his eyebrows with a tilt of his head. “Of course you know; you make flower arrangements for a living.”

“That I do,” you said with a slight grin, playing with the loose label of your water bottle.

After a moment’s breath, Sirius pieced together his train of thought.

“Most of the tattoos of flowers people ask for mean something special to them.” He looked up at you, briefly making eye contact before smiling and looking around. “I want it to look just like they pictured, if not better. That’s the least I could do, I think.”

Letting out a small noise of endearment, you gently bumped his shoulder with yours. “Who knew the big, bad tattoo artist was such a sweetheart?”

“A lot of people, actually,” said Sirius with a pout, standing upright. “It’s a well-known fact that I am a complete gentleman.”

“Whatever you say,  _Tattoo Boy_.”

You walked towards the nursery with Sirius falling into step beside you. Pretending not to notice his sounds protests against his nickname, you opened the greenhouse doors.

“Now, did you have a specific flower in mind? Or an emotion, perhaps?”

“Indignation,” he huffed, still thinking about Tattoo Boy.

“I don’t think we carry a flower that symbolizes indignation at the moment,” you teased, waving at your coworker in the nursery. “But we have something for joy, beauty, happiness–”

“How about love?”

“Love?”

Sirius nodded. “You know, the word that means an intense feeling of affection? Can also be used as a verb–”

“I know what  _love_ means,” you paused, “kind of. Do any of us really know what love is? But, anyway– You want to draw a rose, then?”

He walked down the aisle of flowers, running his fingers gently through the petals. With his arms covered with ink and his body clad in nothing but black clothing, he was quite a sight against his gentle surroundings.

“No, not a rose,” said Sirius. “Are there other flowers that symbolize love? I’m sure a rose can’t be the only one.”

You pursed your lips, looking up at the ceiling as you attempted to recall some flower meanings. “There’s one for slighted love, unrequited love, secret love, loyal love… There’s one that shows someone you love them when you’re too shy to speak the words yourself, there’s–”

“That one.” He met your gaze, the corners of his mouth tilting upwards into a lazy smirk. “The one about shy love.”

Looking away when his stare got too intense, you coughed, walking over to the south-facing wall.

“Peony,” you said simply. “That’s the flower. One of my favorites, actually.”

“You say that about every flower.”

“Every flower deserves the love!”

Sirius laughed, a deep sound vibrating from his chest. When he laughed, he lit up the room; heads would turn just to look for the source of affection. You had always liked that about him.

Wiping your hands on your apron, you pulled out gardening shears. With a small smile on your face, you admired the pink peonies in front of you before clipping on at the stem and handing it to Sirius.

“Other than a bashful sort of love, peonies also symbolize something else,” you said, watching as he took the flower in between his fingers. “In China, where it originated, they call it the ‘King of Flowers’. In a garden, they can thrive even with little care, symbolizing good fortune and prosperity.”

“Seems anything but bashful to me,” Sirius remarked with a slight tilt of his head.

“Right. And that’s what most people associate with peonies.” You shrugged, avoiding his gaze by busying yourself with the flowers. “But, there’s a myth about the origin of peonies that have to do with the more bashful side.”

He didn’t say a word in response, but sat down as he watched you tending to your flowers. After a brief silence, he softly suggested, “Tell me the story.”

“It’s not much of a story, to be honest,” you said, suddenly feeling shy around him. “It’s pretty short and not all that interesting.”

“If you like it, that’s enough for me.”

You felt a small blush creep up on your cheeks. “Right. Well, one day, the god, Apollo, saw this beautiful nymph named Paeonia. He was instantly attracted to her and began flirting.”

Sirius sat with his arm resting on his propped knee, his head facing your direction.

“She was shy, Paeonia. Most nymphs in Greek mythology are–but with the loud, disruptive gods and humans constantly trekking through their homes, you can’t really blame them.”

He chuckled at that, nodding his head in agreement. “No, I guess you can’t.”

You wiped your hand on a clean part of your apron, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “She responded to Apollo’s advances in a timid manner–though that’s not to say she didn’t enjoy them. But a short while after, she noticed the goddess, Aphrodite, watching her encounter with Apollo, a look of blind jealousy on the goddess’ face.”

“Uh-oh,” Sirius chimed when you took a pause. “A jealous goddess never leads to anything good.”

“Exactly.” You shot him a dry smile, feeling your ponytail loosen slightly. “Well, once Paeonia noticed Aphrodite intruding on her personal conversation, she flushed a deep-red. The goddess, who was still fueled by jealousy, turned the nymph into a red peony.”

Sirius let out a silent sound of enlightenment.  _“Oh.”_

“Peonies bloom during the beginning of summer, signaling the start of a new season,” you explained, holding the crown of a flower in the palm of your hand. “During the summer is when dark green foliage is usually most prominent. The colorful pinks and reds of the peonies against the dark background can make your garden look like it’s blushing– Hence, the bashful love.”

“It all makes sense now,” he claimed, a teasing tone in his voice. When he saw your downcast eyes, he immediately sobered. “Genuinely, though, I liked the story. I think my next tattoo will be of a pink peony.”

You peered down at him, examining his ink-covered arms.  _They were very toned, muscular arms. Sirius really did look quite handsome…_ Blinking once, you shook the thought out of your head.

“Would you have space left for another tattoo?” you quipped, eyes trailing down to the small marks of black ink peeking through the collar of his shirt.

He smirked, brushing the dust off his jeans as he stood up. “More than you’d think. Plus, I’d make room for a peony, no matter the size.”

You raised a brow at him in question.

“Because now, whenever I see it, I’ll think of you.”

“Oh.”

Feeling a blush rising to your cheeks, you turned away, pretending to rearrange a small section of flowers. When you heard the ringing laughter coming from Sirius himself, you felt yourself flush a deeper color.

“There’s the deep, peony-pink I wanted to see,” he teased, staring at the side of your face.

“Oh, get stuffed,” you mumbled, putting your shears back into your apron pocket. Clearing your throat, you attempted to changed the topic. “Have you eaten lunch yet?”

Flipping his sketchbook open to a blank page, Sirius pulled out a pencil. “Nah, I was just going to eat later.”

“I figured you’d say that.”

Walking out of the greenhouse, you made your way back inside the store, waving to your coworker at the front desk. In the staff room, you grabbed your lunchbox from the refrigerator, quickly making your way back next to Sirius.

By the time you got to him, he was already working on his sketch, examining the peony you gave him with a gentle touch.

“I made an extra sandwich for you,” you said softly, not wanting to disrupt his work.

You knew Sirius went out of his way to practice these drawings during his lunch break. Once you realized this, you made it your mission to either buy or bring an extra serving for him.

When he heard your words, his hand stopped moving as he slowly shook his head, touched yet incredulous.

“I’m convinced you’re not really human,” stated Sirius, wetting the corner of his lip when you took a seat next to him. “You’re an angel– You  _must_ be.”

Scoffing playfully, you unzipped your lunch pail and handed him a sandwich. “I’m just doing what anyone else would do.”

“I don’t know anyone who else would openly welcome a random stranger with tattoos all over his body into their flower shop, let alone bring him food and free flowers.”

You shrugged, uncomfortable with the praise. “You’re not a random stranger. We split a box of donuts during my grand opening. I think that alone makes us the best of friends.”

Sirius let out a breathy laugh. “Fine. If not an angel, then the human embodiment of sunshine, perhaps.” Taking a bite out of the sandwich you made him, he nudged your shoulder with his. “Well, you’re  _my_ sunshine, at least.”

Staring down at your drink, you tried to stop a smile from spreading across your face, turning so your hair would cover your expression.

“I–” You didn’t know how to respond without making a complete fool of yourself.

You were sure he didn’t view you as anything more than a friend– The owner of the donut shop next door warned you that Sirius flirted with quite a number of ladies. Not that you were to judge, but you figured it was best to not let his advances get to your head.

“Thank you,” is what you settled with, trying to ignore the feeling of Sirius’ eyes on you. Your gaze flitted to the small sketch on his notepad. “How are your drawings coming along?”

“Pretty well,” he said, his face lighting up. “I drew the top view a few times; I think I’ve grown fairly solid at that. I just have to do the side views and different angles, possibly.”

You placed your sandwich on a napkin, wiping your hands on another tissue. “Can I see it?”

“Of course.” Sirius passed you the book, looking intently at your reaction.

Tracing the outline with the tip of your finger, you felt the indents of the markings. “It’s beautiful, as always.”

“Just like someone I know,” he jested, winking at you to let you know he was joking.

“Okay, Sirius,” you drawled. “Just eat your sandwich and enjoy.”

“Sure thing, sunshine.”

You finished the rest of your lunch in a comfortable silence, Sirius occasionally placing his sandwich down to draw the peony. With his shoulder pressing against yours, you found yourself conscious of his warm presence.  

Not that it was bad, you reckoned. It was actually quite nice.

With a slight shake of your head and a hidden smile on your face, you realized you could get used to this.

**\- - - - -**

It was a little over a week later the next time Sirius came in.

You had just finished checking a customer out at the register when you heard the chime of the bells.

“Good morning, sunshine,” greeted Sirius, a sideways grin on his face.

“Morning, Sirius,” you returned, eyes flitting to the clock above the counter. “Even though it’s the afternoon.”

He shrugged. “‘Good afternoon, sunshine’ just doesn’t have the same ring to it, wouldn’t you reckon?”

“I suppose it doesn’t.”

After refilling the cash register with a few rolls of coins, you made your way next to Sirius.

“Did you have a flower in mind for today?” you questioned, rubbing some sanitizer into your hands.

“Not particularly, but–”

At the sound of the chime of bells and obnoxiously heavy breathing, both you and Sirius turned to face the front door.

“Pardon me– Hi,” an out-of-breath man with glasses panted, pushing his messy hair to the side. “Would I be able to make a custom flower arrangement here?”

Shooting Sirius an apologetic glance that he returned with a dismissive smile, you turned to the customer. “Yes, you may. Do you know which flowers you want in your bouquet?”

“Not really…” he trailed off, gaze wandering around the room before meeting yours. “Do you think you could help?”

“Of course.” You stepped forward, extending a hand. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“James.”

You looked toward the presence behind you. “And this is Sirius. He owns the tattoo parlor right across the street.”

“I know,” James said, nodding at you before exchanging a simple handshake and hug with Sirius.

At your confused look, Sirius commented, “I gave him a tattoo a few days ago. Speaking of– How’s your shoulder holding up, mate?”

“It’s not as red, that’s for sure,” replied James, still looking at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Sirius is actually the one who recommended this place to me.”

You raised a brow. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah!” James beamed, ignoring Sirius’ look of warning. “I told him I wanted to ask this girl, Lily, out in some bold way. Preferably with flowers and all that romantic shit–er,  _stuff_ , sorry.”

You both looked at Sirius. James, apologetic, and you, incredulous. Did Sirius  _really_ tell a random person not to curse around you before they even  _met_ you?

“Anyway, he told me the cute girl that works at the flower shop across the street is the best in the business.”

Blushing, you averted your eyes from both of their gazes. “Um– Thank you.”

Sensing your discomfort, Sirius gave you a gentle touch on the shoulder. “He’s only joking.”

Your face fell. “Oh.”

Clearing your throat, you grabbed your gloves from behind the counter and placed them in your apron pocket. You looked back at James with a scrap piece of paper and a pencil in hand.

“So, James, what kind of bouquet did you want to give her?” You gestured to the sign in front of you. “Pageant, round, nosegay, cascade–”

“Erm…”

You laughed. “How about you just tell me what exactly you want to say with the flower arrangement?”

With a sheepish grin, James nodded. “That seems easier.”

Walking past Sirius, you gave him a small smile, “You can just browse around and look for a flower to draw. Or, you can follow James and I if you’d like. Maybe you’ll get some inspiration.”

“I think I’ll do that,” said Sirius. “Thanks, Y/N.”

“It’s not a problem.” Catching up to the wandering James, you tapped his shoulder. “Ready to start?”

“Yeah.” He brushed his fingers along the pots. “I was thinking… In the bouquet, maybe I could include a flower for each quality that stands out about her. She may think they’re nothing important, but I want to show her that’s completely wrong.”

You placed a hand over your heart, head tilted to the right as you let out a heartfelt, “Aww. That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”

You tried to ignore Sirius’ snort behind you.

“Thanks,” James said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Okay, well,” you clapped your hands together. “What’s the first thing you like about her?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Everything she does, she does it to the best of her ability. She’s lively and bright and…”

“Radiant?” you supplied.

“Exactly!”

“Ranunculus.”

“I’m sorry?”

You chuckled. “The flower that symbolizes radiance. Ranunculus.”

“Right! That, then.”

James continued rattling off his favorite qualities about this Lily and as you took notes and showed him the flowers, you couldn’t help but smile the whole time. You had never seen a person care this deeply about someone they’re weren’t even dating.

It was refreshing to know there were still gentlemen out there. Whoever Lily was, you sure hoped she wouldn’t take James for granted.

“For beauty, perhaps you–”

“Wait!” James’ cheeks tinged the slightest pink when he saw your startled expression, mumbling an apology. “I’m sorry. It’s just– Is the song playing  _La Vie en Rose_?”

You listened to the soft hum of the speakers playing the sound of Louis Armstrong’s’ trumpet before the corners of your mouth turned upwards. “Yes, it is. Are you a fan?”

“ _Hold_ me close and hold me fast,” James belted, exaggerating his words as he extended an arm out to you.

Amused, you looked around the shop to see if the other customers were disturbed, but the couple browsing the aisles just shook their heads and smiled.

“C’mon, Y/N! Dance with me.”

“Oh, my gosh.”

You sent Sirius a frantic look, but he just smirked, moving his hips in an exaggerated swaying motion. Begrudgingly, you took James’ hand, following his movements as he attempted to dance to the gentle music.

After spinning around around a few times, you laughed, feeling utterly ridiculous yet surprisingly exhilarated about dancing around in a flower shop to  _La Vie en Rose_.

“Hey, mate, mind if I cut in?”

Your stomach fluttered as James shook his head with a grin, moving out of the way as Sirius took his spot.

When Sirius let his hand rest atop your hip, you felt the heat instantly rise to your cheeks. With James, it was lighthearted and completely platonic– You know that. But with Sirius, every part of you was on edge. In the absolute best way possible.

“And when you speak angels sing from above,” sang James, his voice no where near as peaceful as Louis Armstrong’s as he waved his arms like a mad conductor.

But you couldn’t help yourselves. This was a song that seemed to charm everyone who listened. As you wrapped your own arms around Sirius’ neck, you all sang, “Everyday words seem to  _turn_ into love songs.”

Laughing, you placed your head against Sirius’ chest, hiding your reddened cheeks. The audacity of this whole situation seemed too unreal. It felt as if you were to close your eyes, Audrey Hepburn would be looking down and clapping with a proud expression on her face.

“Give your heart and soul to me, and life will always be… _La Vie en Rose_ ,” you heard Sirius hum near your ear as the song came to an end, your head still resting on him.

Looking up, you saw Sirius’ gaze shift from your eyes to your mouth. You found yourself subconsciously following his lead, your eyes focused on the pink of his lips as you swallowed.

If you moved just a little closer, your lips would be on his…

The track changed and you heard the loud clap of hands along with obnoxious cheering. Clearing your throat, you pulled away from Sirius, trying to fight the heat creeping up to your face.

As you turned to James, you felt the butterflies still fluttering in your stomach from your almost kiss–and from then blissful awareness that Sirius’ hand still laid on your hip.

“Well, as fun as that was,” you said with a breathy laugh, “I suppose we should get back to making Lily’s flower arrangement. Hmm, James?”

“I suppose,” he mumbled with a pout, face brightening only when he heard Lily’s name.

After picking a few more flowers, you gave James a slip to write Lily a short note on as you arranged the bouquet. With a big smile and an even bigger hug, James paid for the service, walking out of the shop with a bounce in his step.

“She’s definitely going to say yes!” James called. “Thank you, Y/N. Sixty-fourth time’s the charm!”

Once he was out of an earshot, you gaped at Sirius.

“‘Sixty-fourth time’s the charm’?” you repeated, incredulous. “So, he’s asked her out _sixty-three_  times before?”

The right side of Sirius’ lip tilted up into a half-smile.  _That damned mouth of his._ “It was only fifty-eight when he went into my shop last week.”

You nodded, mildly impressed. “If that’s not persistence, I don’t know what is.”

Watching as Sirius finished up the last of his sketch, your eyes wandered to his tattoos– The tattoo of a paw print in particular. You wondered what inspired  _that_ interesting tattoo.

“Yes?” He met your gaze, amused.

“Nothing. I was just…” You shrugged, gesturing to your tattoo-less body. “I was thinking of getting a tattoo myself, actually.”

Sirius stopped sketching. “Really?”

“I mean– I was only thinking.” You were suddenly uncomfortable by his intense gaze, placing your focus on the sunflower next to you. “Is it a bad idea?”

He blinked, tapping the back of his pencil on the notepad. “No. Not at all. If you want one, I think that’d be great.”

You smiled. “Really?”

“Really.” Checking the clock for the time, he dusted the palms of his hands on his jeans. “My lunch break’s over now, but– When do you close today?”

You gave him a curious look. “Eight.”

“I can pick you up around then and we can discuss what design and placement you’re thinking of,” said Sirius in a collected voice. Still, you noticed the slight bounce of his heels as he made the proposition. “We can do it over a late dinner, perhaps.”

Your heart skipped a beat as a slow grin made its way onto your face. “Like a date?”

“If that’s okay with you.” The back of his neck colored red as he ran a hand through his hair. “Unless it’s not, then–”

Planting a small, but firm kiss on Sirius’ cheek, you smiled at him, a blush flooding the both of your cheeks.

“That sounds better than okay,” you laughed, your face still flushed. “That sounds perfect.”

He exhaled, a relieved sort of sigh. With his voice deeper than normal, he rasped, “Great.”

You fist pumped the air as Sirius made his way toward the door, trying to be as subtle as possible.

On his way out, Sirius turned back to look at you, a genuine smile on his face. “I’ll see you on our  _date_ , sunshine.”

“I’m looking forward to it, Tattoo Boy.”

Once the door chimed shut, you burrowed your face into your hands, trying to contain your uncontrollable delight. You weren’t sure how this came about, but you thanked all the stars above that it did.

But one thing was for certain. You had a date with Sirius Black. And that was reason enough to smile.


End file.
